


Stained Glass

by Messi10_Neymar11



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, cressiweek2k17
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 14:37:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12234906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messi10_Neymar11/pseuds/Messi10_Neymar11
Summary: The year is late 2015. As the footballing community prepare for a new season and as the Ballon d’Or Ceremony approaches, Gerard starts a story time after practices with the Barça squad about their history with the club and Leo remembers some things a bit more clearly than he should.#CressiWeek2k17Day 1: First DayDay 2: Identity DayDay 3: Other Worlds DayDay 4: Clichés DayDay 5: Time DayDay 6: Kinks DayDay 7: Special Ocassions (Cressi Day)I really don’t have time for this, but just simply couldn’t resist playing my part.





	1. Chapter 1

**_Firsts_ **

 

“Can you believe that we’ve been playing here for like, a decade?” Gerard snorts, plopping down besides him as practice ended.

 

Leo stares up at the sky with interest, not really listening to his tall friend. He lets out a hum to indicate that he was only half listening and half trying to clear his mind through the wide-open view of the blue sky with puffs of unique white clouds scattered around- each one taking different forms and ways. Laying like this on the ground really started to make the whole truth about how the world revolves around the sun while simultaneously spinning a lot more realistic. Leo felt like he was moving- but at the same time, he wasn’t.

 

“I mean it. A decade-!”

 

”It’s only been seven years.” Leo grumbled. Gerard throws a water bottle at him that hits his arm. “Actually, considering La Masia, it’s been fifteen!”

 

Leo ignored him and the dull ache in his arm that he already knows has formed a bruise on the pale skin, running his cleated left foot over the football slowly- back and forth repeatedly. 

 

“Do you remember our first UCL victory?” Geri sighed in contempt.

 

”Oh you mean the one against Arsenal? The one where I was injured and you were in England?” Leo tried to hide his uncontrollable grin.

 

”I swear to _god_ , you can be such a prick sometimes Leo.” Geri snaps. “We don’t mention my times in Manchester, alright?”

 

”Ah, so that’s what you’re talking about.” Leo murmurs to himself, running a finger over his upper lip, tracing the cupid’s bow. “Our win against Manchester.”

 

”There you go! I really wonder if sometimes you just pretend to be as stupid as you look.” The Spaniard says sarcastically.

 

”I am actually a lot more intelligent than you’d like to think.” Leo snarks. “I notice a lot of things Gerard.”

 

”The great and humble Lionel Messi, everyone! Give a cheer for the philanthropist here! He may look like an asshole, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t talk like one, either.” Gerard says with a fake bright grin, clapping loudly. “Honestly though. You’re so sweet and kind and adorable. And when you start getting comfortable around people is when you show your true colors.” Geri accused with a finger pointed to the smirking Argentine. “A devil in disguise- that’s what you are.”

 

”I thought you’d never notice!” Leo grinned evilly. “This had always been a scheme of mine to lure you in and steal all happiness and joy in your life.”

 

”I knew it!” Geri exclaims, slapping a hand in the grass loudly. “Children!” He shouts loudly. Neymar covers his ears with a look of irritation. “Stop calling us that!”

 

”Come here little ones!”

 

With a scowl, Neymar approaches with Luis in tow. Leo’s eyes trailed after the two carefully. “You too Rafa!”

 

”I’ve been here longer than you have Geri!” Rafa snorts.

 

”Will all the newbies come here!” Gerard ignores the Brazilian. Soon, the two La Masia grown footballers have a crowd. Marc-André, Marc Bartra, Lucas Digne, Sergi Roberto, Denis Suarez, Arda Turan, and Ivan Rakitic joined them. “What’s up?” Sergi frowned in confusion.

 

”Sit.” Gerard patted the ground. “Geri seriously. We’ve got things to do-“ Neymar began to whine and Geri gave him a dirty glare. “I said sit!”

 

With a roll of his eyes, Neymar fell to the ground with a pout, arms crossed. Rafinha only chuckled, flicking the other Brazilian in the ear before sitting next to him on the grass. Soon, everyone had sat down.

 

Geri looked at all of them carefully. “I’m gonna tell you a story.”

 

Leo narrowed his eyes.

 

“The story of Lionel Messi!”

 

Instantly, Neymar pricks with interest. “Really?” Bartra blinks. Geri nodded. “Really.”

 

”This should be interesting!” Dani Alves grinned widely, sitting down alongside.

 

”It all began back in Rosario Argentina.” Geri began. “When Leo joined Newell Old Boys-“

 

”Wrong.”

 

Everyone turned to Leo. 

 

“What?” Geri snorts. “Are you fully Italian? Were we lied to?” 

 

“It didn’t begin with the Old Boys,” Leo says with a teasing smile. “It began with my Grandma.”

 

”Oh- right. Yeah. The grandma.” Geri flicks himself with a stupid look on his face.

 

Leo tunes them out.

 

”- a napkin! Really!?” Ter Stegen exclaims excitedly. 

 

“Yup! He was that great!” Geri says to the engrossed group. The sun was turning the sky from blue to a light orange and Leo opened his eyes, turning to Gerard.

 

”Fast forward.” He says bluntly.

 

Geri scowled, but complied anyway. “Fine. One day I’ll tell you about the La Masia days, but for now let’s skip up to 2007.”

 

”I remember this.” Dani sighed in happiness. “Me too.” Rafinha smiles nostalgically.

 

”The start of Leo and Cristiano.” Geri smirked.

 

”Wrong.”

 

They turned to Leo again. Unlike last time, there was a disdainful look in his eyes. “That wasn’t the start.”

 

Gerard exchanged a look of confusion with Dani. “When was then?” Denis asked curiously.

 

Leo stayed silent, and they stared at him as his brown eyes glazed over in remembrance, a distant look in them.

 

”There was no start.” Leo says softly.

 

”That doesn’t make sense, Leo.” Gerard informs him. “Everything starts somewhere.” Leo gives him a bitter smile. “I know.” Geri eyes him weirdly. “So, back to Manchester..”

 

 

 

_There was a feeling of euphoria when that final whistle blew. They’d done it- **he’d** done it. His first UCL._

 

_He remembered fifty minutes earlier just standing, watching with anticipation as David placed the ball down. There was a ringing in his ears as he stared between the white Manchester Untied jerseys, trying to find an opening if he had to. Because isn’t that what they always say? Where there’s a will, there’s a way._

 

_But it was David- and it curled into the top right corner of the net perfectly, and Leo expected nothing less from the Spaniard. His hands shot up to the air, and his knees to the grass. Was it possible to feel on cloud nine and grounded at the same time? Because that’s how he felt- high up above and yet, still so far down to the ground to realize it wasn’t a dream._

 

_Thirty minutes later, and the same right foot of Villa’s boot had found the small Argentine in the mist of greats like Rio Ferdinand and James Chester and Leo knew it before David even knew, jumping up to the air to hit the ball that came with his left temple into the net. It was the highest he’d ever jumped and the furthest he’d ever flew. The whistle was a blessing upon his ears- like ringing church bells on a Sunday afternoon. He may have had a throbbing head ache, but it was okay because the alcohol dulled it out later, until the early hours of the morning when he’d realize that he hated drinking up until they won La Liga where he’d have a beer in his hand._

 

_He hadn’t even realized Gerard was hugging him until he suddenly was, crying a little bit. He was hair ruffled by the legendary Ronaldinho who he hugged tightly after winning, tears mixing with the bitterness of sweat until he wasn’t sure which was which. All that matter was that they’d done it._

 

_The Leo back then never noticed the Portuguese forward who stood silently by the benches, staring at him deeply._

 

_Rome suddenly glowed brighter that night to him as he stared up at the exploding confetti and fireworks. There were many things Leo regretted in his life- but being there, at that moment.. holding that trophy up for the world to see, for the world to realize brought out a buried up passion in him he hadn’t known existed._

 

_He was hugged tightly by Pep and a thoroughly pleased Puyol. It was the only think he could really hear, to be honest. “We did it... we did it...”_

 

 

 

”Lies.” Andres cut in with a snort. “You celebrated like a damn pig.” Gerard jumped slightly with a squeak. “Where did you come from!?” Andres Iniesta stared at him with annoyance.

 

”I was listening the entire time and what you were telling them was lies. You were screaming like a drunkard, and you should be thanking Xavi and I for saving you from further embarrassment that night by dragging your sorry ass to the hotel.” Andres unveils the truth.

 

”Liar! We have been fed lies! Mutiny!” Neymar cried out, throwing his fist in the air. Digne and Luis nodded solemnly along with the Brazilian while Rafa rolled his eyes at the over dramatics.

 

”He’s right.” Xavi states factly from the other side of Gerard who let out a high pitched scream of fright. “Where did _you_ come from now!?”

 

”Don’t worry. We'll be here to make sure he tells the truth from now on.” Xavi promises, sitting down next to Sergi. “Fucking hell... this isn't fun anymore.” Geri complained.

 

Leo rolled his eyes. “You started it.”

 

”Actually, you started it by being an asshole to me.” Geri snaps. “Sure, whatever,” Leo waves his hand in dismissal. “Continue on with your story.”

 

”Right. Where was I? Oh- After the match, I thought I’d greet some of my old teammates, and they all wanted to meet Leo formally- Well.. _some_ of them did..”

 

 

 

_”Please!” Geri whined, pulling hard on the small and young man’s leg. Leo held onto the bar countertop tightly. “No! Get off me Gerard!”_

 

_”Leo don’t be rude! All they want to do is say hi. Stop being such a big baby and suck it up!” Gerard growls. Leo kicks him off, ducking under his arm to take off running to Xavi and Sam when Geri grabbed his arm and dragged him over._

 

_”You're a horrible friend!” Leo cried out to him. “You know how I am and you’re still making me do this.”_

 

_”Chill the fuck out Garfield. All we're gonna do is say hello.” The Spaniard snorts._

 

_Did Gerard really not realize? Of course it wasn’t weird for him. This was his old team for fucks sake. But Leo? Who were these people to Leo? They were the enemies- the people he should avoid because he’s lost before and knows better than to be the winner comforting the loser. People’s pride is not something that can be shot down- only buried alive._

 

_Leo panics further as they approach the table. Rio notices them first offering a small smile. “Hey Gerard!”_

 

_”Hi! How are you guys!?” Geri beamed, slipping into the seat next to him old pal._

 

_Leo stood, tense and awkwardly next to the table until Wayne Rooney’s eyes landed on him. “You can sit down.” He invited politely._

 

_Leo blinked._

 

_”He doesn’t know English that well.” Gerard informs them, sending Leo a wink who flushed with a scowl._

 

_”Anything else I can get you gentlemen?” The Italian bartender comes up to the table. Everyone offered the middle aged man a look of confusion._

 

_Leo stared smugly for a moment as he opened his mouth to answer. “No, thank you. We’re good.” The bartender nodded with a smile before leaving. Leo looked back  at their looks of awe with a pleased feeling deep within him. He’s actually a bit embarrassed to admit how great it feels to see the look of confusion on their faces._

 

_”The fuck? You know Italian?” Gerard stares at him with a wide mouth. “I am part Italian Geri.” Leo states with a huff._

 

_”What!?” He screeched. “Since when!?”_

 

_Leo looks at him like he’s stupid. “What the fuck do you mean **when**!? I’ve always been part Italian you dumbass! It’s not something you gain half way through your life!” _

 

_“No way. Since when were you Italian?” Geri demanded. “Are you stupid!? You really think one day i just thought ‘hey. I wanna be Italian.’ And then suddenly I was Italian!?”_

 

_“Well, no! But.. but..” Geri faltered. “Exactly,” Leo shots back. “Moral of the story; you’re stupid.”_

 

_Rio let’s out a loud laugh, and Leo stops abruptly, flushing. “I didn’t get any of that other than him calling you an idiot and I love it because he’s 100% correct.”_

 

 

 

”Okay, pause.” Rafinha says with an annoyed look. “You are so full of shit, Gerard.” 

 

“What now!?” Geri exclaims, pulling pieces of grass out from the ground. 

 

“Don’t do that unless you’re gonna pay for it!” Lucho snaps from behind him and Gerard screams yet again. 

 

He turns to see the former Barça player sitting on a water cooler casually, legs crossed and arms behind his head, chewing on his gum calmly.

 

”What the hell coach!? What are you doing here!?” Geri shouts.

 

”I wanted to hear the story!” Lucho said defensively. “And I have to say- you aren’t a very interesting story teller Gerard.”

 

”He isn’t that great of a defender either, but some things we have to live with.” Neymar sighs dramatically.

 

”Excuse me!?” Geri screeched loudly. “I am the best-“

 

”Second.” Leo cuts in smugly. “Puyi is always first Geri. You know that.”

 

” _Second_ best defender in Barça history!”

 

”Fair enough.” Xavi nods in agreement. 

 

“May I continue with my story without getting offended any further!?” Geri exclaims. “Well- no promises on not making fun of you, but you may continue.” Neymar laughed evilly to himself.

 

”Anyways- so we were all at that bar right? Well, things may have gotten a _bit_ out of hand..”

 

 

 

_”It’s nice to finally meet you, Leo.” Ryan tells him with a beaming smile._

 

_”You too.” Leo says in broken English, trying his best with a small smile. He may not know English, but he’s not in idiot. He doesn’t need a certain language to define his intelligence. He lived in Spain after all- why should he learn such a tongue that would only be useful a couple times a year? He’d most likely forget anyway._

 

_”It was so weird to see you score a goal like that- you’re so small!” Wayne exclaims. Leo blinked._

 

_”I still don’t know how he did it.” Gerard mumbled to himself._

 

_Truthfully, even Leo didn’t know how. It was moments like those that he truly believe in God’s power. Football was just like that- instinct. Raw and unclothed. Sometimes it worked out, sometimes it didn't. Trial and error became a part of daily life. Accuracy of correct instinct came with experience- which was something Leo was starting to realize more and more as the years passed by. It was true what they said- know thy enemy like thy friend. Experience = Knowledge = accuracy = instinct. It was a simple ‘equation’ that had become Leo’s method and mindset._

 

_How and who taught him? Himself. And he just stuck with it one day. It just mass formed on its own and Leo welcomed it with no resentment. How could he? It had gotten him this far. You don’t just abandon something like that._

 

_”Anyone in the world of football is dangerous.” Rio chuckled sipping his drink as he eyed Leo curiously. “All that matters is how.”_

 

_How._

 

_How?_

 

_Was he dangerous? Did they view him with as much paranoia as he did to them? The real question is, what’s wrong with him? These people have won everything there is to win. He’s the rookie here. He’s got around ten years in his belt- but them? They’ve got about a good five. Is that how he could be dangerous? The fact that he was so young? Leo wasn’t sure if he was flattered by the thought or not. How was Leo dangerous to Rio? To Wayne? To-_

 

_“Cristiano!”_

 

_Leo suddenly stopped in confusion. Cristiano? Ronaldo? He’d almost forgotten such a name even existed- such a prestige and cocky visage hadn’t been seen all night. That was the most weirdest part. Watching Cristiano Ronaldo blend in with the gloomy walls- unseen. Leo had to take a double take. Surely the Portuguese wouldn’t allow such ignorance towards himself. But he had. And it creeped Leo out as much as it interested him._

 

_The Portuguese stopped by their table, looking up from his phone. “Hey.” Was all he said- and yet Leo still envied it a bit. How easy it was._

 

_”Hey Cris! I haven’t seen you all night, man. Where’ve you been?” Geri asked curiously. Cristiano shrugged thoughtlessly. “Around.”_

 

_The response was oddly blunt. Especially considering the fact that it was directed to Geri- the Spaniard Cris had connected with the most because of the language barrier between everyone else._

 

_“Wanna join us?” Rio scooted over. Cristiano looked like he wanted to decline, but thought against it- climbing over the others to snuggle into the wall next to him._

 

_Leo stared at Cristiano from across the table slightly. His features reminded the Argentine of one of those stupid sculptures an art museum tried to sell to him at a gala he went to._

 

_”Hey- Is that Thiago dancing!?”_

 

_”No- that’s Rafinha.” Geri corrects with annoyance._

 

_”Don’t blame us- they’re brothers. It’s hard, okay?” James says defensively._

 

_Rafinha suddenly slipped, falling backwards with failing arms off the bar. “Fuck- help me please!” Geri stood up along with Rio._

 

_Leo stared wide eyed as Geri got up, clenching a hand around his sleeve. “Geri!?”_

 

_”Let me just go get Rafa- what? You want to go with me?” Geri demanded. Leo winced, shaking his head. “Then stay here.”_

 

_Gerard left, and there were four._

 

_”Oh my god.. is that Fabio?” Wayne groaned, staring at the drunken Brazilian petting a fur coat and cooing to it like a dog. “Yup.” James sighs, standing up with the other Englishman. “we’ll be right back.” They left, and then there were two._

 

 

 

”So hold on a second.” Neymar cut in instantly. 

 

“Oh my god, what?” Geri said exasperatedly. “Rafinha was drunk dancing, I can believe that. But you helping? That’s a little hard to envision.”

 

”That’s because he didn’t help.” Xavi cuts in, throwing Gerard a dirty glare. “He got up on the table and danced to the Macarena with him.”

 

”We were wild.” Rafa signed dreamily. “I know right. Tell me about it.” Gerard laughed loudly.

 

”That isn’t something you should two be proud of!” Andres accused.

 

Leo ignored all of them, staring up at the clouds. One reminded him of a flower that he’d seen on the glass of a church back in Rosario they would go to on Sundays. He remember staring at it as a kid, memorizing each detail of the painting carefully until it was stuck in his mind forever. 

 

“Alright. I think I’m gonna end it here.” Geri slapped his thighs as he stood, stretching. “Wait, what!? You gotta tell us what happens next!” Sergi whined.

 

”How about we all come here same time tomorrow and I’ll tell you the other part?” Geri asks. “Really?”

 

”Sure. Why not?” Geri promises. “Story Time with Gerard!”

 

”Great! Same time tomorrow- you better be here!” Neymar grabbed his water bottle running inside with the others trailing after him, talking to each other excitedly.

 

”And he was the least interested.” Geri snorts to himself in disbelief, shaking his head.

 

He turns to glance at Leo who is still laying on the grass, staring up at the sky. “You coming?”

 

”Later,” Leo replies quietly.

 

”As you wish.” And then he left Leo alone on the pitch with an orangish, purplish colored sky and a billion thoughts of the past ten years crossing his mind.

 

 

 

_Leo suddenly felt nervous and it was shockingly unbelieveable how it was possible. How could one man intimidate him ten times the amount of five?_

 

_Cristiano suddenly set his his phone down after a minute, looking up at Leo. The dark brown eyes pierced through him. Leo flushed pink, turning away awkwardly._

 

_The silence was suddenly too unbearable, and Leo couldn’t stay silent any longer. “I-I’m Lionel M-“_

 

_”Messi. I know.” Cristiano says in almost perfect English, accent off a bit._

 

_Leo blinked. “Oh. I forgot you don’t know English.” He then says in Spanish. Leo was sure his Spanish was better than his English. He opened his mouth to reply, but he was beaten to it._

 

_”I actually didn’t know about you up until you scored that header- congratulations.”_

 

_Leo closed his mouth and drew back, startled._

 

_Cristiano seemed surprised by his own blunt and cold answer, looking remorseful. He suddenly pressed a hand against his face, laughing softly. “Forgive me. I don’t take losing lightly.”_

 

_”I can see that.” Leo forced out. Cristiano bit his thumb, staring down at the table with slight frustration._

 

_”I’m sorry.” He admits. “It’s fine. You should see me after we lose a position on the Liga board.” Leo let’s out a nervous chuckle. Cristiano stares at him curiously._

 

_”Against Real Madrid?” He suddenly asked with interest._

 

_”Real madrid?” Once again, Leo is startled. Cristiano offered a smile, bearing perfectly white teeth._

 

_“Yes. Real Madrid. Enemies- right?”_

 

_”Rivals.” Leo corrects softly. “There are no enemies in football.” Cristiano’s gaze warmed. “Ah. I see.”_

 

_”Would you like that? A rivalry?”_

 

_“I don’t see why not. A little rivalry is good.” Leo frowned in confusion. “Why are you asking?”_

 

_Cristiano stared at Leo deeply. “Because.. for some reason- I think I see something that you don’t quite see yet.”_

 

_That was the first time._

 

_The first time._

 

_Leo flushed a bright red. “And what is that, Ronaldo?”_

 

_”That, Messi,” Cristiano’s smile is mischievous with dark eyes, rubbing a finger against his lips. “Is a rivalry.”_

 


	2. Identities

_**Identities** _

 

“Leo? Where are you going!?” Gerard called to the short footballer who had picked up his Barça training jacket, zipping it up and grabbing his bag from the corner of the pitch, slinging it over his shoulder.

 

”Home.” Leo replies easily, staring at his cleats that pounded into the ground as he walked off.

 

”But we’re continuing with the story!”

 

Leo scowled.

 

”I don’t want to hear the story.”

 

Gerard flared at him. “It isn’t for you. It’s for our children.” Geri indicated to the group who had suddenly grown larger with now Mascherano, Bravo, Masip, and Munir joining in.

 

Leo groaned lowly in his throat. Why were they so interested anyway? He was Leo. Just Leo. Who cares what happened before? They needed to focus on the UCL and La Liga. Not how he had grown.

 

”We shouldn’t even be doing this. If you guys are going to be staying after, why not practice more? Why do you want to listen to these dumb stories anyway?“

 

”It’s a form of team bonding.” Neymar says stubbornly. “We're growing as a team and learning more about our club history. Is that not just as important?”

 

Leo’s gaze softened. He was being unnecessarily rude. They had practiced as hard as they could- gone over every possible tactic for the upcoming games. Who was he to rain on their parade? To be the party killer?

 

Truthfully, it wasn’t even the fact that they were sitting down telling these stories. It was the memories these stories were replenishing. It hurt as much as it warmed him deeply.

 

“No- no. You’re right. Forgive me.” Leo sighs, dumbing his bag before laying down next to a criss cross sat Gerard, propping his head up on his bag.

 

”Alright. What dumb lies are you going to tell us today?” Leo questions with a raised eyebrow.

 

”Asshole,” Gerard mumbles, throwing him a glare. “ _Today_ ,” he emphasizes. “I am going to take you all on a journey, here.”

 

“Which is?” Neymar said impatiently.

 

“As many of you know, it is almost time for the FIFA Ballon d’Or ceremony.”

 

Leo winced.

 

”Congratulations to Neymar, the loser Brazilian, for making a spot as a nominee. Good luck to you.” Geri nods solemnly to a scowling Neymar. “It is an honor to even be a nominee. But we already know who’s going to win.” They all turned to Leo.

 

”Don't do that,” Leo murmurs, eyes staring at the clouds up above once again. “You have a chance of winning too.”

 

”Yeah, sure. I have as much of a chance as Cristiano Ronaldo.” Neymar snorts. Leo tensed.

 

Neymar offered him a small smile. “I don’t care. If you win- when you win, I’ll be smiling right there next to you because you deserve it.”

 

“Oh Ney,” Leo sighs. “You’ll win one.”

 

“You think so?” Neymar questions with a confused smile. Leo nods. “I know so.”

 

“Alright. Aren’t you two adorable!” Geri says sarcastically, snorting out a laugh. “Honestly though. As the Ballon d’Or ceremony approaches, we’re going to see a lot of Real Madrid players.” Geri states loudly.

 

“Gasp! Oh the horror!” Neymar said in faked fear.

 

“Shut up!” Gerard snaps. “Geri, you make it seem like Real Madrid are the spawns of Satan when you’re buddy-buddy with more than half of them when we play for Spain. Especially Sergio.” Marc Bartra accuses.

 

“Ugh. Don’t mention that asshole Ramos.” Geri whispers darkly.

 

“Fast forward two months and you’ll see Geri giving Sese piggyback rides and they’ll be rooming together with the National Team.” Xavi says smugly.

 

Gerard flushed in embarrassment. “We don’t talk about that in the clubs, Xavi! You promised!”

 

“Such a weirdo,” Andres face palmed, “ _This_ is the man our fans want to be president of the club?” He says in disbelief to Sergi who only shakes his head in disappointment.

 

“You guys are so fucking mean to me!” Geri cries out. “Just shut the fuck up and listen to today’s special story!”

 

“Alright Gerard. Tell us your story.” Rafa rolls his eyes, tuning in.

 

“Okay. In honor of Barcelona vs Real Madrid, today I’m going to take you back to the El Clasicos... to the years where there was no bigger match in the Club seasons...”

 

 

 

_The day Leo found out Real Madrid had signed Cristiano Ronaldo, he couldn’t stop his laughs of disbelief. He was almost in hysterics. He laughed so hard that tears had started to form in the corner of his eyes._

 

_Geri next to him stared gobsmacked between Leo and the screen of the Portuguese dressed in the white jersey, presented to the thousands of fans that cheered his name loudly._

 

_“Leo!? Why are you laughing!? This is horrible!” Gerard cried out._

 

_“A-A r-rivalry!” Leo chokes out between laughter. “That’s what he meant!”_

 

_“The fuck are you talking about?” Geri frowns in confusion._

 

_Leo ignores him, a small smile forming on his face. He finally understood. It took a year- a year where he had for the most part forgotten about that night in Rome. One video. A snap second camera shot, a flash of lights, a loud cheering of fans in a fully packed stadium, and suddenly Leo understood it all._

 

_It really was amazing what a tiny little camera could do- what it could catch. Leo stared with interest at the golden skinned face._

 

_”Finally.” He breathed._

 

_”What are you talking about!?” Geri cries out, incredibly confused. “This is absolutely awful!”_

 

 

 

”You _laughed_?“ Neymar stared at Leo with disbelief.

 

Leo ignored him. 

 

“Leo! You laughed!?” 

 

“I know right! To this day, I still don’t know why his transfer was so fucking funny to him.” Geri cries out in frustration, fisting his hair. He points an accusatory finger to the bored Argentine. “Why’d you do it?”

 

”I don’t have to explain anything to you.” Leo snarks. “I had my reasons.”

 

Geri and Ney gaped at him along with the other players. “We would like to know those reasons!”

 

”It’s none of your business- so just drop it.” Leo says darkly.

 

Rafa rubbed his temples. “Known you since we were seventeen, yet you’re still a complete mystery.” 

 

“Who was coaching you guys during that?” Lucho asks curiously. “Pep.” Xavi answers. “And Madrid?” The old Barça players scowled. “Mourinho.”

 

”Ah,” Lucho smiles to himself evilly. “That makes sense.”

 

“Those were some pretty violent days. Remember when Pepe almost ripped Dani’s body in half?” Rafa smirks.

 

”Or that time Sergio went terminator and tried to kill everyone?” Marc Bartra adds.

 

”I remember that very vividly.” Leo comments.

 

”You were his first victim, after all.” Geri snorts. “Don’t worry- I was there to protect you.”

 

Leo gave him a blank look. “All you did was call him a puta for seven minutes straight.”

 

Geri gives him an exasperated look. “What else did you want me to do? Knock him to he ground?”

 

”What!? No! You shouldn’t have messed with him in the first place! The dude’s got some serious anger issues! Look where your argument has brought us today.” Leo snaps.

 

”You try to defend a teammate, and this is the thanks you get!” Geri mutters to himself angrily.

 

Leo rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.” 

 

Geri throws him a dirty look before continuing.

 

“The first El Clasico with Ronaldo was great, because we won. But it was only by a single goal...”

 

 

 

_”One goal.” Xavi sighed in slight disappointment. Leo pats his captain’s arm. “A win is a win.”_

 

_And thats the truth. After all, the only thing that really matters- the only thing that counts are the wins. “We’re better than that, though.” David sighed._

 

_”Maybe,” Leo dropped the water bottle to the ground as they entered the tunnel, giving his Spanish friend a stern look. “But this is old news. We need to focus on Getafe now-“_

 

_He’s cut off abruptly when he bumps into a hard back._

 

_Leo stared at the black number seven intently. His eyes trailed up from the large lettered **RONALDO** , up the miles of white cloth until they met a pair of light brown eyes of an all too familiar face turned to him. Xavi and David continued down, too caught up in their own conversation._

 

_They stood for a good minute, staring at each other. Leo hates to admit that it wasn’t awkward in the least bit- because it should. It should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t. And that bothered Leo. He suddenly felt unbearably closed up, like he was suffocating. Why did Ronaldo have that affect on him every single damn time? Why did he always have to have such an electrifying intensity in his eyes when he stared? Usually Leo appreciated the silence, but with this man, it was just unbearable. He tried to grit down the feeling but it was too overwhelming- until he just had to say something._

 

_”Hi.”_

 

_Ronaldo paused, regarding Leo for a second before he grinned widely. He began laughing and Leo felt self conscious all of a sudden._

 

_When Ronalo's loud laughter had shifted to deep chuckles, he gave Leo a dazzling smile. “Why are you so adorable?”_

 

_Leo freezes up. “I- uh, w-what?” He stammers, flush taking over his cheeks._

 

_”Realx,” The older man teased. “I’m just messing with you Messi.”_

 

_“Oh.”_

 

_Honestly, what else was he suppose to say?_

 

_“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Ronaldo then frowned. Leo furrowed his brows. “Uh.. no? Not really. Just nervous.” He admits quietly._

 

_Ronaldo beamed at that. “It’s great to see you again Messi.”_

 

_”Yeah.. you caught me off guard there. With the transfer.” Leo hinted._

 

_Ronaldo’s gaze shifted to something a little more dark- a little more hidden. His smile suddenly looks plastic to Leo. “Did I?”_

 

_His voice is odd. A mixture of secrecy and playfulness in it- almost as if he’s toying with Leo and enjoying every second of it._

 

_”You did.” Leo narrowed his eyes. He suddenly felt the need to be guarded. Such a man with such exposing eyes stripped him bare, taking in everything, and Leo hated that._

 

_”I did warn you after all, Messi.” Ronaldo states calmly, but there’s a storm behind his eyes, and Leo sees it._

 

_”Weird way to give a warning, Ronaldo.”_

 

_”What can I say? I love a good chase.”_

 

_“Good thing I like running then.”_

 

_They both narrowed their eyes at each other, sizing the other up. Ronaldo suddenly smirks, patting his Real Madrid emblem three times- slow and calculated._

 

_”I’ll see you later, Messi.”_

 

_Leo had barely even blinked a couple times before the other man was gone, like he was never there at all._

 

 

 

”It still fucks up my mind that Zlatan played for Barça.” Neymar snorts in disbelief.

 

”Same.” Rafa frowned. “He was interesting to talk to, though- that’s for sure.”

 

”Are you guys kidding!? Ibrahimovic was my best friend!” Geri exclaims, throwing his hands up.

 

Leo let out a loud laugh. “That’s probably because he’s the only person you could see from all the way up there, you giant!”

 

”How does your mushroom house look from down there next to those pebbles, you troll?” Gerard sneers back.

 

Leo grinned childishly. “Quite comfy actually- nice and soft. I’d invite you over, but you’d end up smashing it.”

 

”I’ll smash you into a thousand pieces!”

 

”Sure you will.” Leo stuck his tongue out.

 

”Leo, we use to be friends. What happened?” Geri fakes a cry. 

 

“What happened was that you somehow managed to get stupider, and Leo got more sarcastic.” Xavi replies for him.

 

”If there’s anyone to blame for the sarcasm, it’s Sanchez.” Leo defends.

 

”Of course! Blame the Chilean!” Masche snorts.

 

”That’s the logic I stick to.” Ney grumbled.

 

”Salty ass.”

 

”Shut up, bitch.”

 

“What the fuck- wasn’t this suppose to be quality team time? What’s wrong with all of you?” Sergi cries out.

 

”This is us showing love!” Neymar says with a grin, indicating to a red face Rafa who is stuck in a headlock by the former. 

 

“Right..” Geri rolls his eyes.

 

”Where was I? Oh! Fast forward to the magical 5-0 victory..”

 

 

 

_The final whistle brought loud cheers from the small section of stands full with Barça fans. The rest was abandoned seats of Madrid fans who left after the third goal in disappointment._

 

_Leo ran a hair through his sweaty hair, only to have it flop back onto his forehead and he growled in annoyance. It was getting too long again. He’d have to cut it soon._

 

_“We won!” Geri cheered, shaking Leo vioenltly. “You’re giving me a headache!” Leo snaps._

 

_The tall Spaniard pouts. “Grouch.”_

 

_”5-0! Can you believe it!? At the Bernabeu too!” Gerard bragged. Leo rolled his eyes. “A win is a win.”_

 

_”Stop ruining the moment you pale bug.” Geri shushed him._

 

_Leo’s eyes caught those again. They were burning with so much fire, so much drive. It was a shame how there was only so much you could do in ninety minutes. Unlike before, Leo was well aware of Cristiano’s presence on the field now. It was burningly impossible not to anymore. Those eyes held more words in a single stare than Leo had said in an entire interview._

 

_They cross paths again._

 

_”Lionel,” The Portuguese greets calmly._

 

_”Cristiano.” Leo replies back uneasily._

 

_“It has shocked me greatly,” He began with disdain obvious in his voice. His eyes filtered around the remaining disappointed Madrid fans in the stands. “How I seem to have found this club to be quite dear to me very quickly.”_

 

_Leo is starting to know Cristiano. Starting to understand him. And he gets it. But why he’s saying all of this to him is the mystery. “Then you should probably up your game.”_

 

_Maybe he shouldn’t have said that._

 

_Cristiano's eyes narrowed on him slightly before he smirks. “You are such a culé.”_

 

_”And I can see that they’ve already made a galactico out of you.” Leo scatters to reply._

 

_”Not that.” Cristiano murmurs. “Have you read what they’ve been saying?”_

 

_Leo really needs to clear his head. His mind is racing his heart and losing. “No- what have they been saying?”_

 

_”Our fans have very opinionated views.”_

 

_Leo’s throat feels dry. “The Spanish are ruthless.”_

 

_”I see.” Cristiano’s gaze lands back on Leo and once again the Argentine is taken aback by the sheer and raw intensity in his eyes. Leo doesn’t flinch when Cristiano’s hand reaches out towards him- they know each other too well now. His finger is light as it taps the Barcelona emblem over his heart three times, but it leaves a heavy mark that Leo would feel for the rest of the season- until they’d meet again, in December._

 

_”Interesting,” Cristiano's voice is as soft as the look in his eyes as he takes in Leo’s features. “Your heart jumped.”_

 

_”Did it?” Leo chokes out. He just wants Cristiano to leave him alone at this point. He doesn’t get a reply._

 

_Cristiano gently traced the emblem. “Rivalry of the year, hm?” Leo is startled at that. “I wonder, how long do you think that’ll last?”_

 

_It’s directed to Leo, he knows it. Knows it through the gaze of the older man who is waiting for a reply. “Who knows. Maybe a couple years.” Leo replies back quietly._

 

_Cristiano shakes his head with an amused smile. “No.. no, we're too good for that.”_

 

_Leo’s curiosity spills over. “How long do you think it’ll last?”_

 

_Cristiano pauses a moment to gaze at Leo thickly._

 

_”Perhaps,” he breathed. ”It’ll always last.”_

 

 

 

”I don’t believe you.” Neymar accuses.

 

”Bro!” Geri lays his legs out on the green grass. “How can you _not_ believe that?”

 

”Because it’s absolute bulllshit, that’s why.”

 

”No it isn’t! Just ask Leo.” Geri snides.

 

They turn to Leo who has an arm over his eyes to block out the rays of sun. He’s dozing off- Geri can practically see the zzz’s over his head.

 

”Leo please confirm Gerard’s dumb lie!”

 

”I let you guys talk about my love life,” Leo says in boredom. “But stop trying to pull me into it. Been through it once, don’t wanna do it twice.”

 

”Remember when Leo was just a baby?” Geri sniffles to Andres who looked like he wanted to murder everyone.

 

”Yes, and even back then he could pass a ball in between your legs.” Andres shot back.

 

Neymar and Rafa cheered. “Get roasted Gerard!”

 

”Why am I the bullied one here? Are you condoning this?” Geri turns to his coach who’s eating a sandwich.

 

”I don’t gotta condone anything after practice.” Lucho shrugged. “Plus you’re a grown man. Figure it out.”

 

“Who do you guys think is the scapegoat at Real Madrid?” Sergi suddenly ponders out loud.

 

”Pepe.”

 

”Fuck no, it’s definitely Sergio.”

 

”Wrong! It’s Marcelo.”

 

”I bet you it’s Benzema just because he’s French.”

 

”Aw hell no! Are you stupid? Benzema? It’s gotta be without a doubt Ronaldo.”

 

”It’s definitely not Navas. That guy is not a happy pickle.”

 

”It’s James!”

 

”What the fuck?”

 

”What!?”

 

”Who said James?”

 

”James!?”

 

”The Colombian!?”

 

”Rodriguez!? RODRIGUEZ!?!?”

 

”Have you _met_ the guy!?”

 

”Have all of you lost your minds!?“ Gerard shouted loudly, quieting the arguments. 

 

“It was Samuel who said James!” Neymar complains, pointing to the Frenchman who smiled sheepishly. “You never know! It could be Toni, too.”

 

  
”What the fuck?”

 

”What!?”

 

”Who said Toni?”

 

”Toni!?”

 

”The German!?”

 

”Kroos!? KROOS!?!?”

 

”Have you met the gu-“

 

”FUCKING HELL, IT’S RAMOS!” Leo screams out.

 

There was silence for a moment, because Leo doesn’t usually scream. Then a voice-

 

“I was right.” Rafa whispers.

 

”Okay! Let’s move on with the story, shall we? Lot of El Clasicos, lot of victories, lot of fights, and then.. 3-4.”

 

 

 

_It truly did amaze Leo how seven years could really change things. How it could change people. He feels as if he’s watching everything through a television screen, a movie with a script. A jump up a couple years to when everyone had grown. It was weird. Seeing Marcelo’s crazy unruly curls stick out of his head like a bunch of weed in the pavement when just seven years ago, he didn’t even have any hair. Weird seeing Sergio with an actually decent haircut, but then again Leo was in no place to judge._

 

 _He rolled over like a little rolly polly, landing on his back tiredly, the cold grass tickling his bare skin. Three goals, but nonetheless he was done. All that matter was that they won. Couldn’t wait to go sleep in a comfy bed. He spread his aching legs out, winching at the throbbing higher up his thigh as he pulled the bottom of his jersey up to cover his face- an indication for by passers leaving for the tunnels not to disturb him as he took a moment in for himself. He stared at the red and blue stripes covering his eyes and was glad he couldn’t see anything else- he didn’t_ _**want** _ _to see anything else. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly._

 

_A hand pats his knee and he knows it’s Geri and Geri knows Leo well enough to not bother him right now._

 

_Leo let’s out a deep breath, just wanting the ground to sink him in. There’s another hand on his knee, but he ignores it- hoping it’s Xavi or Dani just passing by._

 

_”Are you really going to be lying like that in such a compromising position and just expect me to not come over?”_

 

_Leo’s eyes snapped open and his heart that had just calmed down post game starts racing again, as if he’s running with a ball between his feet all over again. He can see his dark silhouette sitting between his legs through the fabric and feels even more flushed than he was with the sweat. His legs feel the need to squeeze around the body sitting between them. He doesn’t move._

 

_”Aw come on Leo,” Cristiano taunts darkly. “You won, so this isn’t really fair. I was going to just leave you.”_

 

_”I don’t want to see you.” Leo muffles out through the cloth._

 

_”But **I** want to see you.” Cristiano murmurs. There’s a hand lightly tracing his bare stomach- and that’s worse. Much much worse, so Leo shoots up to a sitting position, the jersey falling back over his body, and his eyes adjust to the light. Cristiano is there, still as picturesque looking as he was before the match had even begun. But Leo knows- he sees the died out fight in those eyes that had completely overtooken his daydreams. “Yes Cris?”_

 

_They’re passed the formalities. Both of them know this. Cristiano stares down at him. “I can’t help it Leo- I really hate you.” Leo ticks. “You always have to ruin everything for me, don’t you?” Cris scowls. “What else am I here for?” Leo tried._

 

_“Every time I forget you, and you have to go and show me that you’re still here.” Cris mutters to himself angrily. “What?” Leo frowned. He heard him, but he wants to hear it again- hear what it means. Cristiano gives him a look._

 

_“There are cameras and people still here. If they see us talking for this long, they might get the wrong idea and think we’re friends.” Leo suddenly feels the need to say. Cristiano sneers slightly. “Isn’t that what we are?”_

 

_”Is it?”_

 

_”Oh please, Leo. Your face is the cause of my damnation and the reason I’m here. Is that enough for the great Lionel Messi?” He says sarcastically and Leo feels pinched all over. “Cris..”_

 

_”No- I get it. This is you,” The Portuguese clenches a fist around the Barcelona emblem, his eyes filled with hatred. To the outside eye it may look like Cristiano was threatening him, but the only threatening one here was Leo._

 

_”My club doesn’t have to define me, Cris.” Leo whispers._

 

_”You’re right.” Cristiano nods with a smile. “You’re right. But you see, the problem, Leo, is that it does.”_

 

_Leo is angry suddenly. “The same way Real Madrid defines you, right?”_

 

_Cristiano is silent._

 

_”Well then. I guess this is just who we are. A club.”_

 

_Cristian stood, ruffling the other man’s hair softly. “See you at the Ballon d’Or.”_

 

 

”I wish that I could wake up with amnesia!” Neymar suddenly sang loudly.

 

Leo rolled his eyes as he stood up, grabbing his bag and turning to walk off. No one stopped him this time- too busy murdering the Brazilian who murdered the moment.

 

”Ney- you always ruin everything!”

 

Leo smirks.

**Author's Note:**

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